CHAPTER 2
The next day, Sam and Frodo were enjoying a nice luncheon on the lawn, consisting of pork sausages, home-baked biscuits slathered with hand-churned butter, fresh mushrooms, and apple cider, when Rosie came and joined them.
"Sam," she began, "I'm awfully sorry about yesterday. My brother's just a little more protective than he ought to be. I'm sure he meant no harm." Sam's face lit up like a firefly.
"You think so, Rosie?" Sam said, and smiled. Rosie blushed and looked down. Sam, suddenly feeling awkward, also blushed and looked down. Frodo, watching them, found it to be quite humorous. Suppressing a giggle, Frodo accidentally let out a loud snort. Both Rosie and Sam looked up at him, alarmed, and then blushed even more!
"Look at them, as red as tomatoes!" Pippin whispered to Merry, pointing to the two as they approached.
"Hello Frodo! Sam, Rosie," Merry said with a wicked smirk. Frodo eyed him. Merry sat innocently down right next to Sam, putting his arm around him. "SOOO, Samwise! How have you been? Are you going to ask anyone to the dance?" he said as loudly as he could. If it were possible, Sam's face got redder. Rosie's eyes got wide.
"Maybe you could ask Roosie!" Pippin piped innocently. Merry looked exaggeratingly intrigued.
"Why, he could indeed! Sam-"
"Merry, Pippin, come HERE!" Frodo's voice was forceful, so they followed, complaining, and left Sam and Rosie alone.
"What was that about, Sam?" Rosie inquired. Sam looked down again.
"Rosie... I was thinkin' that maybe, maybe you'd like to go to the fall dance with me. I'd treat you real nice, and-" he was cut short as he suddenly found himself kissing Rosie! Merry and Pippin's complaining in the background suddenly ceased, and when Sam turned around he saw their jaws dropped at the turn of events. The couple looked, well, dazed, to say the least. After what seemed a blessed eternity for Sam and a quick, shocking moment for Pip, Merry, and Frodo, the two parted and Rosie smiled and let out a short giggle. "Take that as yes, Samwise...By the shire, if you didn't ask me soon, I was prepared to up and ask you myself!"
Sam stammered then let out a short, nervous chuckle...after Sam obtained the needed information, time, place, what color jacket to wear, Rosie insisted she needed to hurry home before Gregar came and got her to make his luncheon. Sam waved shyly as she walked down the lane, stopping to greet Bilbo as he walked down the path to the house.
"Good afternoon, Miss Rosie!" Bilbo said with a low and graceful bow before Rosie continued on her way. Bilbo then walked over to the now chattering group of young hobbits.
"Why, Master Gamgee...I do declare...you do look flushed...could you be getting sick...?"
Pippin giggled. "LOVE sick, you mean..."
Frodo eyed him warningly, but just then, Bilbo started to speak. "Have you looked at the sky this past week, my dear hobbits? There's foul a storm on its way if I ever saw one..." Bilbo looked worriedly into the clouds above. "Come, Frodo, Sam, its near time for tea!" Bilbo looked back up and turned into his hole, leaving the door ajar for the young hobbits.
"A storm? Will it be bad?" Pippin wanted to know. His young and curious eyes inquired even more than his voice. Frodo turned to Sam and then to Merry. For the hobbits a storm was an irregular occurrence, and none of them seemed to know quite what to say about it.
"I don't know, Pippin. I shall ask Bilbo at tea," Frodo answered. He turned, with Sam at his arm, to the hobbit-hole. Merry and Pippin continued down the path.
"Merry! What if the storm happens on the night of the dance?"
"It won't, Pippin," Merry said before thinking. But maybe it would.
"Merry-"
"-Pippin." That seemed to settle that. Bilbo escorted Sam and Frodo into the warm entryway of their beloved Bag-End. It provided a comforting light and shelter from the now coming storm outside. Bilbo started a roaring fire and left the room to prepare cakes, and tea, and good rolls for a happy and pleasant tea. Frodo, meanwhile, took out an old mad and laid it out on the table for Sam and Frodo to look at.
"Look, Mr. Frodo...right there - see, Mirkwood. Elves live there. I'd dearly like to see them. You've met the elves, didn't you, Mr. Bilbo, sir?"
Bilbo smiled as he walked back into the living room with a tray full of good things for them to munch while they talked. Bilbo started. "That I did." He smiled at Sam. "And you, someday perhaps, Samwise Gamgee!"
"Oh, I do hope so, sir." Sam reached for a heel loaf and took a large bite. "Mmm! Mr. Bilbo, sir, hw ddd ung-" Frodo tried not to laugh.
"Sam! Wait until you are done chewing."
"You like it, Master Gamgee? I shall send you with a recipe!" Sam beamed his approval between bites. Frodo's mind quickly wandered back to the storm.
"Bilbo," Frodo began. Bilbo looked at him. "Bilbo, what of the storm? When should we expect it?" Bilbo scratched his chin. "I'd say fairly soon, my boy. What of it?"
Frodo looked at his tea, his face somewhat downcast. "Ah, your dance is coming up soon, is it not?" Bilbo said stirring the fire slightly. Frodo nodded. "Yes, it is. It would be terrible if the rain forced us to postpone it."
"Tis fall, my boy. Rain showers come and go as they please, much as Gandalf does." Said Bilbo.
"Speakin' of Mister Gandalf, sir," said Sam, "When is he comin' to visit? Soon I hope..."
"No doubt soon, Sam," said Frodo. "He is to come deliver the fireworks for the dance." "Speaking of this dance of yours..." Bilbo muttered something about young hobbits gallivanting about after hours, and then eyed Sam. "What was that young Took saying, 'Love sick', I believe, Master Samwise! Eh, and what's this? Finally prove your fancy for Miss Rosie?" Bilbo chuckled. Sam smiled shyly and looked down.
"Yes sir, I- fancy? What fancy?" Sam looked bewildered. Frodo laughed.
"Sam! It's been so obvious! You loved Rosie since you set eyes on her. And these past 20 years you've done nothing about it!"
"Well! I- well. It just so happens-- well!" Sam turned bright red. Bilbo and Frodo shook their heads and smiled.
A large banner hung between the two biggest trees at Hobbiton High, the very day before the school dance. "Fall Fling" it read, with the pony mascot on one side and "Hobbiton High" in smaller letters underneath. All the young hobbits looked forward with excitement to this dance, even those without dates. The sky, however, had a different story! Merry and Pippin were gazing up into the gray heavens scowling. Rosie and Sam sat under a tall willow just staring into each other's eyes. Frodo was overseeing the unloading of the fireworks every now and then glancing at Lily who was in charge of music. He was upset as she was going to the dance with Gregar he should have asked her earlier!!! Suddenly he spotted out of the corner of his eye Samantha, who was making a banner for the party. One of Gregar's clumsy, brute friends was walking over. He began to tease her mercilessly, playing with her hair and trying to ruin the banner.
"Stop it, Gregar!" She snapped.
Gandalf, having arrived to help out at the dance, glanced over as well, and then looked back at Frodo expectantly as he unloaded another box of fireworks. Merry and Pippin had also been watching Frodo, and even more so the supply of fireworks. Merry had a gleam in his eye as he glanced at Pippin. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" he asked.
The corners of Pippin's mouth began to creep upwards. "If you're thinkin' what I'm thinkin', then I'm sure I'm thinkin' what you're thinkin'." Merry stared at him a moment. "On second thought, nobody really can be sure what you're thinking, or if you're even thinking at all..." Pippin began to nod, and then stopped, puzzled. "But never mind that," Merry continued. "All we have to do, in order to have a little fun with all this, is to create a diversion and while their sorting it out we can borrow some fireworks."
"Borrow? How can we give them back if we've used them?"
"Well Pip, we're not using them for our own enjoyment, now are we? It's for all the poor hobbits who can't have fireworks until tomorrow."
"Really? Who?"
"Us you divvy!!"
"Oh that's alright then. What shall we do as a diversion?"
"Well, steal his hat! No, no. Ask him questions about his hat! I'll take the fireworks. Meet me behind Old Oakers afterwards!" Merry smiled at Pippin.
"But..."
"Good! Now go on," said Merry, whistling innocently as meandered toward the cart. Pippin looked about confusedly, wondering how he'd gotten himself such an obligation. Gandalf appeared over the rise, with another armload of fireworks.
"Well, it's now or never," Pippin muttered to himself as he started forward. "Gandalf!" he cried. "Ho! Gandalf!"
The gray-cloaked wizard stopped and turned to the young hobbit. "Why, if it isn't Peregrin Took!" he exclaimed. "What can I do for you, lad?"
"I, uh... well, what I meant to say is... err, I was just wonderin'..."
Gandalf looked at him quizzically. "Yes?"
"Your hat!" Pippin blurted. There was a moment of puzzled silence.
"My hat?" asked Gandalf.
"Yes, that's it, your hat," Pippin recovered himself. "You see, t'other day I got to thinkin'." Pippin stammered, searching for the appropriate words, but as usual, it came out clumsy and stupid. "It's tall...very tall and....very pointy."
Gandalf smiled and his blue eyes sparkled. "You are an observant one, Peregrin..." He said, going back to loading the fireworks. But Pippin, as usual, continued talking.
"Why? Why is it so, Gandalf?"
Gandalf laughed merrily. "Why? You hobbits could go on forever with such questions..."
"I still have not received an answer" Pippin interrupted. As he carried on this aimless conversation, Merry snuck to the side of the cart and carefully lifted a few fireworks out. He then jumped to the ground and looked about to be sure no one had seen him. No one had. Glancing up the hill, he could see Pippin tagging along bouncily by Gandalf's side, chattering away at a record clip.
"I want to know Gandalf!" he chirped. "Why is it so tall?"
"Well, I suppose it suits me," Gandalf replied. "Can you imagine a tall wizard like myself wearing a short little hat? Of course not!"
"Oh, you're certainly right! How silly of me," Pippin babbled on. "Now, that brings me to another thing. I noticed it's gray, and that got me wonderin'..." The voices faded away as the two figures made their way down the other side of the hill and toward the party grounds. Merry smiled to himself. "Perfect," he said. "All according to..." He didn't have a chance to finish. Before he even got another word out, a firm hand grasped his shirt from behind and spun him around. It Seemed Gregar found something to do keep himself occupied. "Well look what we've got here - Meriadumb Brandybuck..."
"What's this?" He asked, grabbing the fireworks from his hand as he shoved Merry to two of his rowdy friends who walked around behind him. They held his arms fast.
Gregar smiled slyly. "Well...this sure could be alota fun...." Merry sputtered and cast his eyes about, looking for a way to defend himself. As he did so, a movement behind the group of hobbit bullies caught his attention. It was Pippin! He must have left Gandalf and crept back to find Merry, only to find his friend in Gregar's clutches. Pippin put a finger to his mouth, signaling Merry not to give him away.
"So, Gregar how's your father?" Merry asked cheerfully.
The older hobbit was caught off guard. "What?" he asked perplexedly. This was the reaction he least expected.
Merry saw Pippin creeping slowly toward the firework cart, which was to the side and slightly behind Gregar and his friends. "I asked how your father was doing," Merry repeated. "I heard he'd come down with a right nasty cold last week. I hope he's doing better?" Gregar scratched his head. "I suppose so," he mumbled, unsure what to do next.
"Aww, c'mon Greg," Mortimer Clubfoot, one of Gregar's friends, chimed in. "Let's bruise the little pipsqueak up a bit and have our fun. That's what we came for." Pippin had reached the cart, still unnoticed by the older hobbits. Reaching up, he grasped one of the protruding fireworks, and slowly began easing it from the cart.
By now Gregar seemed to have recovered himself. "You're right Mort," he said. "Little Meriadork's just trying to distract us." He advanced menacingly, pounding the fist of his right hand against his left palm. "Mort, hold his arms," he continued. "The rest of you," he motioned to the other two, "Will take turns givin' 'im some nice black 'n blue spots."
Merry swallowed uneasily. "And you're mum," he squeaked. "How's she holding up? I know it was hard on her when her mother died a few months back."
"Shut yer trap," Mugwort Sackville-Baggins snapped.
Pippin was fumbling with something on the ground now. Then Merry saw a spark. Flint! He had a flint stone! Pippin dropped the flint back in his pocket and set the firework in the ground, aimed at a spot just above Gregar's head.
Merry tried desperately to stall for time. "And how's your mother, Mort old chap?" The older hobbits sniggered, but just then the fuse burned up to the base and.. SWOOSH, POOF! A spiral of blue and purple sparks spun overhead of Gregar and his friends right into the tree. Birds flew in every direction as the dry, autumn leaves caught flame. Merry took the opportunity to backhand both of Gregar's thugs and make a mad dash for it.
Gandalf, however, was neither amused nor impressed with Pippin's courageous rescue.
Pippin stood victoriously and hooted with laughter, only to be cut short by a firm, familiar grip of old, arthritis-gnarled fingers on his floppy hobbit ear. "Fool of a Took," He and Gandalf said simultaneously. Gandalf carried him back to the cart.
Meanwhile, Frodo sat talking to Samantha, who he had just saved from torturous bullying. Something bugged him, though. She kept winking at him, and putting her hand on his shoulder. Frodo shrugged it off, but when she almost too obviously "tripped" on him, he decided enough was enough.
"Excuse me... I don't mean to be rude, but I have to get back to work!"
"Well, o-" Frodo was already off, in search of Sam. 'Where is that blasted hobbit?' he thought, frustrated. He didn't see him until he fell right over him. "OOMPH!" Frodo and Sam both gasped, as Frodo fell over Sam and Rosie.
When the three hobbits had all righted themselves and dusted themselves off, Frodo realized what had happened. He flushed and stammered, "I-I'm terribly sorry! I didn't mean to...to. interrupt..."
Rosie giggled. Sam turned red. "Oh, n-no Master Frodo," he replied. "It's not like that. You didn't interrupt nothin'."
But Frodo saw the lipstick marks on Sam's face and knew otherwise. Then Rosie spoke up. "Look at the clouds!" she nervously commented. "Why, if they aren't the blackest-"
"Rosie?" a voice roared. The hobbits jerked their heads around to see Gregar hovering over them. "And Samwise Gamgee. So this- this is what you've been up to!"
"Have off, Gregar!" Rosie snapped, causing Sam, Frodo, and even Gregar to look at her in surprise. "You have no-" she was cut off short. The loudest clap of thunder those hobbits had ever heard resounded through the grassy arena, echoing around the solid trees. Frodo clapped his hands over his ears. Rosie squealed and clung to Sam. Similar shrieks and squeals were heard here and there, as hobbits previously preparing the area dashed for the nearest oak tree. Gregar roughly grabbed Rosie from the ground.
"Rosie, you're coming home, now!" As Rosie protested, Gandalf suddenly became immense in stature, nearly twice his natural height, and dark and terrible to look upon. "GREGAR COTTON!" he bellowed. "I *highly* suggest that you unhand your sister and go find other things to do with your time!"
Gregar's mouth dropped. His lower jaw trembled, and whimpering noises emerged from somewhere within. The large hobbit (who didn't feel so large anymore) quickly let go of Rosie's arm. "I- I-I..." he stuttered.
Gandalf slowly returned to his normal form. "That's better," he nodded. "Now run along."
Gregar slowly took a step backward, then another, and then turned tail and took off over the hill toward home has fast as his hobbit legs could carry him. But before the other hobbits could thank Gandalf for intervening, a flash of lighting streaked across the sky, followed closely by another clap of thunder, and then the heavens burst. "Quick!" shouted Sam, trying to shield Rosie from the downpour. "We must find shelter!"
"Follow me!" Frodo yelled against the torrent. "Bag-End is closest!"
They began running in the direction of the Baggins residence. But as they neared the top of the lane, Merry suddenly slipped on the muddy footing and fell violently on his face. Pippin, who had found them, pulled Merry out of the puddle. "Merry, come on!" Frodo grabbed a hold of Merry from the other side and hauled him up the way. They burst through the door, grabbing and pulling and hauling their way inside Bag End. Finally Rosie pushed the door closed. Bilbo looked startled as they all piled in at last. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "It isn't every day I get a whole passel of sopping hobbits in for supper. Oh dear, you must be chilled to the bone! Let me put on some tea for you. Frodo, sit our guests down by the fire. There's a good lad."
Bilbo bustled about; passing out warm woolen blankets, and filled a large kettle with water and hung it above the roaring fire. "Would anybody like some fresh biscuits?" he called from the kitchen. His muffled voice made it obvious he was already enjoying one himself. "Or how about a nice bowl of vegetable stew?"
"Nothing for me, thank you," Gandalf replied.
Bilbo tsked under his breath and muttered, "Those wizards, they just don't eat right. Why, a healthy hobbit can down 3 or 4 times what a grown man eats." Then, speaking louder, he called out, "How about the rest of you? Sam? Rosie, lass? What'll ye have? And Meriadoc? Pippin?" Merry piped up, "Well, if you don't mind, I'll have some sausages, and tomatoes..." He paused to think. "And some nice, crispy bacon!" he said at last. "Good! Good!" Bilbo beamed. "At least one of you eats right."
Sam spoke up. "Do you have any of that bread, sir? I fancy it more than the old Gaffer's, if I may say so. May I help you in the kitchen, Master Baggins?" Bilbo called a hearty agreement and Sam rushed to the kitchen excitedly. Rosie, Pippin, and Frodo voiced their dinner preferences and proceeded to hang up their wet outer clothes. Rosie, the only lady, shivered, still in her sopping dress. Bilbo appeared at the doorway. "Rosie, my lass! I may have something dry for you as well. Come with me!" Rosie obligingly stood up and followed the old hobbit down one of Bag-End's hallways.
"I do believe I've still got some old dresses of my mother's packed away here somewhere," Bilbo muttered, stopping and pulling open a closet door. He rummaged for a bit, and then shouted "AHA!" Triumphantly he held up a cozy-looking flannel evening gown. "I suppose it's a bit out of fashion," Bilbo said, looking at it and frowning a bit, "but I hope it'll do until we get your own things dried and this storm lets up."
"Oh, I'm sure it'll do just fine," Rosie smiled at him.
"Good, good," Bilbo smiled back. "Now, there's a spare room immediately to your left," he said, pointing. "You can change in there, and then join the rest of us when you're done."
Rosie took the dress and thanked him, adding a quick kiss on the cheek, and then hurried into the spare room to change.
"Well, I'll be," Bilbo chuckled. "A pretty young thing like that givin' me a kiss..." He shook his head and headed back to where the others were huddled around the flames.
As Bilbo returned, Frodo looked up and said: "Bilbo, what shall we do? The dance-- it can't happen, you've seen the rain! All the decorations, all of our hard work, not even Gandalf's fireworks!" Frodo's face was tense and upset. Gandalf cut in. "My boy, a storm cannot stop a hobbit's work. It will simply be delayed!" Frodo hadn't thought of that.
"Delayed, Gandalf? Will you stay?" "I'm afraid I can't," the wizard said regretfully. "I only had plans to be here through the night of the dance, and not a moment longer. I have pressing business in the south."
"But you *must* stay!" Sam cried in dismay. "How will we have fireworks if you aren't here? Everyone knows a party just isn't a party without fireworks!"
"Oh, you may still have your fireworks yet," Gandalf chuckled. But when they pressed him to explain what he meant, he merely smiled and refused to say another word. They all sat in silence for a while. Rosie emerged from the spare room, smiling and singing softly to herself. But she stopped short when she saw the other hobbits' somber faces.
"Why, what's the matter with all of you?" she asked. "Here we are, in a nice warm hobbit-hole, safe from the storm, and with plenty of good food and warm drink to see us through, and you're all moping like a bunch of naughty children who've just been told they'll have to skip afternoon tea and wait 'til dinner for their next meal. Whatever is the matter?"
"Oh, Rosie," Sam began, "Gandalf cannot stay! He said something about a delay, and pressing business, and fireworks..."
"Sam, Sam!" Bilbo chuckled. "You'll have your dance, and your fireworks too. It's a shame Mr. Gandalf will not attend, but a wizard must not be troubled by the affairs of hobbits."
"Why, Mr. Gandalf!" Rosie cried. "The dance won't be the same!"
"Don't worry, Rosie. "It may be better than you think." Gandalf said to her. Bilbo startled as if he had suddenly remembered something, and rushed into the kitchen again. The soup was boiling and the bacon was ready. But just as he went to pull the stew off the stove and dish it up, the water kettle started whistling, and at the same time a bit of grease sprang out of the bacon pan and landed on Bilbo's outstretched arm. The old hobbit yelped, and as he sprang back, he bumped into the table and knocked over the whole tray of biscuits he'd prepared. Waving his burnt arm in the air, he used the other to reach for the water kettle, but his flailing arm slammed right into the rack of pots and pans hanging from the wall, setting off a dreadful clamor. By now the kettle was emitting a piercingly shrill noise, and the stew was bubbling so vigorously that any second it would boil right over. The whole mess would most likely have turned into a real disaster if it weren't for Gandalf and Sam. Bursting into the kitchen, Sam hurriedly tended to the jittering pot of stew, while Gandalf took the water kettle off the stove and quickly dished the cooked bacon out onto a waiting plate. Bilbo held his arm and sat amongst the pots and pans. Merry and Pippin joined them in the kitchen, first gathering the scattered biscuits and reassembling them on the tray, and then proceeding to rescue the pots and pans. Rosie took Bilbo out of the clutter and sat him in his living room. As she went to find an aloe plant, she appointed Frodo to keep him company. In the kitchen, Merry's stomach got the better of him, and he began stuffing a biscuit into his mouth with one hand, and reached for a tomato from the bowl on the counter with the other. But before it got there, Gandalf smacked it away. "Ow!" Merry cried out. "What was that for?"
"You ought to wait until everyone's been served, and especially old Bilbo," he reprimanded the young hobbit. "Now," he continued, ladling some stew into a bowl, and setting it on a tray, along with a biscuit, two strips of bacon, and a mug of hot tea. "You take this in to him and then help Rosie tend to his arm." Abashed, Merry nodded and carried the tray out to Bilbo. But he lucked out of his second chore, for Rosie was already there, bandaging the burned spot.
"Bless you, dear lass," Bilbo said to her. "Sometimes I don't know how I manage to get on all by myself out here."
"There, there," Rosie smiled. "We all have our mishaps from time to time." Merry set the tray down on the end table beside Bilbo's chair. "Here you go, sir," he said politely. "Why, thank you Meriadoc. Now, you go on and help yourself to some of this."
Merry smiled and happily scampered back to the kitchen. But Gandalf wasn't done with him yet. "Back already, eh?" he said. Merry grinned and nodded. "Well, good! I have a job for you." You see all these pots and pans scattered 'round?"
Merry stammered stupidly "I...I uh-"
"Pick them up and put them back into order...then perhaps you can sit and have your luncheon."
"But Gandalf!" Merry snapped, pointing to Pippin who had already taken the liberty of sitting at the table and eating..."You could pick this all up with a snap o' your finger! Why do I?"
Gandalf eyed Merry warningly. No words were needed. Merry grumbled to himself as he started to clean up.
Meanwhile, the old wizard turned to Pippin and smiled. "He'll get over it," he whispered. The rest of them took their food and went to join the others by the fire, joined shortly afterward by a disgruntled Merry.
"Well," Bilbo announced, "it doesn't look as if this storm shows any signs of letting up soon, so I suppose you'll all have to stay the night. I'm afraid I only have one spare room with a cot in it, and Rosie shall take that, so the rest of you will have to bundle up with your blankets on the floor in here. I hope you'll all get by?"
"Oh, yes, that's perfectly all right," Sam replied, smiling graciously. "And bless you for taking us in like this. As soon as the weather clears and I can get back to the gaffer's place, I'll bake you a right nice carrot cake as thanks."
They all enjoyed their food, scraping the stew bowls as clean as they could. When they were finished, the excitement of the day and the warmth of their supper overcame them, and one by one they drifted off to sleep.
********************
The next day, Sam woke up as a ray of sunshine spilled through the window and spread over his face. He sat up, stretched, and then remembered where he was and what had happened the day before. "Frodo!" he cried, shaking the nearest hobbit, who was still fast asleep. "Wake up! Look! The storm's passed!"
"Mmrrrph" Frodo muttered, his face buried under the blanket. "Merry! Pippin! Bilbo! Look!" Sam was filled with joy. Maybe the dance wouldn't be delayed after all, if the ground dried quickly enough. A bleary-eyed Merry sat up and threw a pillow at Sam. "Let a tired hobbit get his rest, why don't you?" But Bilbo was already up and about, and poked his head in from the kitchen. Smiling, he spoke: "Breakfast will be ready soon, sleepyheads. In the meantime, why don't you wash up and see if Miss Rosie needs anything..." He said as he went about frying eggs and sausages, toasting nice slices of homemade bread and butter, and warming some hot cider for the young hobbits. Gandalf was nowhere to be found and his cart was gone, but Bilbo had a strange feeling they'd see him again before long. Pippin awoke with a start at Bilbo's words.
"Breakfast? Sam, he said 'breakfast'!" Pippin scrambled to his feet and hauled Sam out of his blankets. Bilbo chuckled from the next room.
"I think I'll be needin' a bath first, Pippin. That goes for the rest of you, too!" Sam replied. Merry grunted from the pile of hobbits on the floor. Frodo decided that as he wasn't doing anything he'd wake Rosie up but before he could knock on her door she stepped out of the room all freshly washed and dressed in the clothes she had been wearing when the storm struck.
"Still in your rumpled night clothes Frodo? I've been up for ages but I didn't want to disturb you so I got all washed up. Where's Sam?"
"Getting washed up. He'll be out in a minute."
"Good, we have some unfinished business that needs attending to as soon as possible. Shouldn't you go finish the decorations?"
"Yes your right, I'll attend to that straight away, after we all bathe and eat."
"Why of course, Frodo! I wouldn't have the bunch of you out there looking like mud-rats, now!" Rosie grinned at him. Frodo laughed. "I'll be preparing the baths, if you need anything, Rosie," Frodo said, and turned away down the hall to the three hobbit-sized washtubs in the washroom. Bilbo was busy boiling water for each of the baths. He brought in a pot full every now and then and added some cool water along with it. Pretty soon, Pippin and Merry rushed in to make sure they got in first so as to be the first at the breakfast table. Bilbo hesitated to hand Pippin the bar of soap. "Now remember, Master Took, I don't want any soap suds on my floors now! Last time you bathed in here you left a mess and poor old Gandalf nearly broke that rickety old back of his..."
Pippin smiled mischievously and grabbed the cake of soap. "I'll be careful, Bilbo. Honest."
"All right then," Bilbo smiled, and made for the door. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears," he called over his shoulder. With that, Sam began to unbutton his shirt. He looked down at his bare hobbit chest. His eyes opened wide and he looked up in excitement.
"Merry!!! Pippin!! I grew a chest hair! I have a chest hair!!!"
"Not for long, you don't!" Merry grinned, plucking the single curly hair from the middle of Sam's chest. Sam looked at him, horrified. "Y-you... you..." he stuttered. "I'll get you for that." Merry smirked and slapped the surface of the water with his hand, sending up a spray of soapsuds and drenching poor Sam. "Merry!" Pippin cried, mortified, "I promised Bilbo..." But Merry didn't seem to hear. Laughing, he quickly wriggled out of his own clothes and jumped into one of the tubs, splashing. He sloshed more water out at Sam, who was attempting to completely undress before he bathed. As it were, he was getting a bath standing up! "Merry! Stop! I told Mr. Baggins-"
"Here, Pip!" Merry tossed him the soap. Sam took the opportunity to get out of the line of fire and into the bath, much relieved and, for the moment, safe from Merry's torments. Bilbo walked in. He groaned. "Peregrin Took! I asked you to please be careful of the floor!"
"I-I... I tried, Mr. Bilbo!" he whimpered. "But you see, Merry..."
"Never mind," Bilbo cut in. "Just finish your baths and see that you get this all cleaned up. Now..." He looked around, "where did I leave that confounded linen?? You boys will need to dry..." Bilbo shook his head, muttering to himself, and walked briskly out of the room.
"Merry, why do I always have to get in trouble?" Pippin whined at him. He too pulled off his muddy garments and settled into a tub.
"Because, Pip, if I got in trouble, I'd blame it on you anyway." Pippin frowned at him and began to wash, singing a chipper song of bathing and drinking and sweet hobbit lasses. Merry snickered, "you think you're gonna get lasses, Pip? Not unless your nether parts start catching up with that tummy you're growing..."
Pippin flushed. "Oh... oh... you... I should have let old Gregar kick *yours* in a little! Then we'd see how *you* feel..."
"Children! Children!" Frodo exclaimed. "Hush now. Let's finish our baths in peace!" Muttering, Pippin went back to scrubbing himself. Sam was lost in a daydream. He had nearly forgotten that he was bathing, and he settled back, relaxed. He closed his eyes and smiled. Merry looked over at Sam and poked Pippin. "Pippin!" he whispered. "I think Sam's dreaming about... Roooosie..." he grinned lopsidedly.
"Sam has a lass! Whyee can't I?"
"Give it up, Pippin!" Merry turned his attention back toward Sam. He held the soap up above Sam's tub and dropped it, splashing both Sam and himself with bath water. Sam awoke from his daydream with a start, spluttering. Merry and Pippin roared with laughter.
"Eee, Sam, dreamin' about yer Rosie, eh?" Pippin teased. Just then, Frodo shrieked. The other three jumped a good three feet in their tubs (splashing more water in the process), and whirled to see what was wrong. "Pippin! Sam!" he cried. "Oh, Merry! Help! I got it in my eye! It burns!" Frodo held his squinting eye with a soapy hand, not making it much better. "Here," Sam said, handing Frodo a bucket of clean rinse water. "Wash it out with this."
Frodo seized the bucket, turned his face upwards, and dumped out the water. "Ahhhhh," he sighed. "Thank you, Sam. That feels mush better."
In about twenty minutes, all washed and dried and clothed, the four hobbit friends returned to the kitchen. There they found Bilbo dishing out breakfast onto plates. Rosie was setting the table. Sam's heart fluttered when he saw her, and she smiled at him. "Morning, Sammie..." she greeted him, seemingly unaware of the other three hobbits.
"Good day, Rosie..." Sam replied, not taking his eyes off her. Merry and Pippin, who were behind Sam, looked at each other and immediately started belting out a hobbit love song. "Samwise and Roooosie, sitting in a tree," Merry began. "K-I-S-S- I-N-G," Pippin joined in.
"First comes loooooooove,
then comes marriage,
then comes a hobbit in a baby carriage!"
Bilbo flashed them a warning look. "Now, now," he said. "Your food will get right cold if you don't eat up now."
Everyone took their share and dug in. "Mmm," said Frodo. "You sure do know how to cook, Bilbo."
Bilbo smiled, "I don't know about that. I'm sure our young Samwise here could teach me a thing or two."
Sam blushed. "Oh, I can make a decent loaf of bread, but 'tain't nothin' special," he said modestly.
"Oh, Sam," Rosie said, "You kiss- cook like a wonder!" She turned red, hoping no one had heard her slip. Frodo, Merry, and Pippin almost died stifling their laughter as Bilbo gave them another look. Sam blushed more. The blushes and their causes were soon forgotten, as there was a knock at the door. Bilbo began to get up. "Now I wonder who that might be?" "Oh, never you mind," said Rosie, pushing him back into his chair. "I'll go see to the door. You just finish your breakfast." Rosie bustled to the front of the hobbit-hole, smoothed her dress, and opened the door. "Rosie!" thundered a voice from outside. "What the devil do you think you're doing? I've been through nearly half the Shire looking for you!"
"Oh, Gregar," she replied. "We just got caught in the rainstorm last night, and Bilbo's place was closest, so..."
"I don't care!" Gregar bellowed. "You should have come straight home!"
"Now just a minute!" Sam had appeared behind Rosie. "You've got no right to be talkin' to Miss Rosie like that!"
"Oh haven't I?" Gregar smirked. "She's my sister, or have you forgotten? Now..." He grabbed Rosie's wrist. "You're coming home straight away!" Sam had had enough. He stepped out of the door and knocked Gregar's hand away and stood in front of Rosie. "Rosie is 24 years, if I remember, and I think I do! She is old enough to be makin' her own decisions!" Rosie began to quiver behind Sam as Gregar raised his fist. The older hobbit sent Sam reeling with a hook across the jaw. "Gregar, stop!" Rosie shouted. Sam staggered and recovered his footing. Balling his own fists, he advanced on Gregar. The two hobbits began circling. "Sam! Gregar! No!" Rosie pleaded, but the two didn't seem to hear. Gregar swung again, but this time Sam was ready and ducked out of the way easily. Then Sam landed a punch to his gut. Gregar doubled over, gasping. Sam lowered his fists, thinking he'd gotten the better of the old bully, but Rosie's brother wasn't finished yet. Recovering quickly, he caught the younger hobbit by surprise with another blow to the face. Sam nearly lost his footing. Before he could steady himself, Gregar kicked at his legs, sending Sam to his knees. It looked as if he would win the fight, but just then Rosie screamed at the top of her lungs. Gregar and Sam both looked at her in alarm. Bilbo, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were already there. Frodo helped Sam to his feet, and Rosie just kept screaming, advancing on her brother until he was out the door. She slammed it, stopped screaming, and turned back to the others. Sam rubbed his jaw. "My god... she's turned into a banshee..." Rosie smiled sweetly, "What's a girl to do?"
Gregar pounded on the door, "Open up!" More pounding. "The devil take you, Rosie! Open the door!" Rosie shouted back: "Go home, brother! I have neither the time nor the expense to put up with you! I don't want to see your face here again, hear me? Never!" Worried about Sam, she turned to him. "Oh, Rosie, I'm sorry... I didn't want... well, I, I di-" Sam was cut off as Rosie pulled him into a long, sweet kiss. Bilbo sighed. "Oh, young love..." The pounding continued. Nobody cared. Frodo was thankful Gregar hadn't the sense to run to the window and look inside. After what seemed a great while, the two parted. Pip felt somewhat "ashamed" for teasing Sam earlier. He walked over to Sam and put a hand on his face. "My, Sam....that's some shiner on your face there. It just might clash with your outfit you picked out for the dance tonight..." Merry giggled "Ah yes, but the ladies enjoy a good ol' battle scar, Pip..." Several minutes elapsed, and the two still had not parted. Merry coughed. Still nothing. "Ahem!" Frodo grunted, scratching the back of his head. "Mmm?" Rosie muttered, slowly pulling away. "You said something, Frodo?"
Sam looked dazed. He went back to rubbing his sore jaw. "Oh, nothing, Rosie," Frodo shook his head. "I just noticed the pounding on the door has stopped. Perhaps Gregar's given it up for now." Bilbo spoke up. "Well, maybe the pounding has stopped, but I don't think this is the last you've seen from Gregar, Sam. You better be careful if you don't want to add a black eye to that shiner. But for now, I think it's best if we tidy up!" Bilbo smiled at them and bustled back into the kitchen. Merry, Pippin, and Frodo followed. "Bilbo, do you think the dance will still happen? Everything is wet!" "With the way that sun is shining," Bilbo nodded at the light coming in the window, "Things are sure to dry up by this afternoon. That will leave us just enough hours to put up the decorations before it's time for everyone to start showing up. Don't you worry, Frodo, dear lad. The dance will go on as planned!" Frodo sighed with relief.
The next day, Sam and Frodo were enjoying a nice luncheon on the lawn, consisting of pork sausages, home-baked biscuits slathered with hand-churned butter, fresh mushrooms, and apple cider, when Rosie came and joined them.
"Sam," she began, "I'm awfully sorry about yesterday. My brother's just a little more protective than he ought to be. I'm sure he meant no harm." Sam's face lit up like a firefly.
"You think so, Rosie?" Sam said, and smiled. Rosie blushed and looked down. Sam, suddenly feeling awkward, also blushed and looked down. Frodo, watching them, found it to be quite humorous. Suppressing a giggle, Frodo accidentally let out a loud snort. Both Rosie and Sam looked up at him, alarmed, and then blushed even more!
"Look at them, as red as tomatoes!" Pippin whispered to Merry, pointing to the two as they approached.
"Hello Frodo! Sam, Rosie," Merry said with a wicked smirk. Frodo eyed him. Merry sat innocently down right next to Sam, putting his arm around him. "SOOO, Samwise! How have you been? Are you going to ask anyone to the dance?" he said as loudly as he could. If it were possible, Sam's face got redder. Rosie's eyes got wide.
"Maybe you could ask Roosie!" Pippin piped innocently. Merry looked exaggeratingly intrigued.
"Why, he could indeed! Sam-"
"Merry, Pippin, come HERE!" Frodo's voice was forceful, so they followed, complaining, and left Sam and Rosie alone.
"What was that about, Sam?" Rosie inquired. Sam looked down again.
"Rosie... I was thinkin' that maybe, maybe you'd like to go to the fall dance with me. I'd treat you real nice, and-" he was cut short as he suddenly found himself kissing Rosie! Merry and Pippin's complaining in the background suddenly ceased, and when Sam turned around he saw their jaws dropped at the turn of events. The couple looked, well, dazed, to say the least. After what seemed a blessed eternity for Sam and a quick, shocking moment for Pip, Merry, and Frodo, the two parted and Rosie smiled and let out a short giggle. "Take that as yes, Samwise...By the shire, if you didn't ask me soon, I was prepared to up and ask you myself!"
Sam stammered then let out a short, nervous chuckle...after Sam obtained the needed information, time, place, what color jacket to wear, Rosie insisted she needed to hurry home before Gregar came and got her to make his luncheon. Sam waved shyly as she walked down the lane, stopping to greet Bilbo as he walked down the path to the house.
"Good afternoon, Miss Rosie!" Bilbo said with a low and graceful bow before Rosie continued on her way. Bilbo then walked over to the now chattering group of young hobbits.
"Why, Master Gamgee...I do declare...you do look flushed...could you be getting sick...?"
Pippin giggled. "LOVE sick, you mean..."
Frodo eyed him warningly, but just then, Bilbo started to speak. "Have you looked at the sky this past week, my dear hobbits? There's foul a storm on its way if I ever saw one..." Bilbo looked worriedly into the clouds above. "Come, Frodo, Sam, its near time for tea!" Bilbo looked back up and turned into his hole, leaving the door ajar for the young hobbits.
"A storm? Will it be bad?" Pippin wanted to know. His young and curious eyes inquired even more than his voice. Frodo turned to Sam and then to Merry. For the hobbits a storm was an irregular occurrence, and none of them seemed to know quite what to say about it.
"I don't know, Pippin. I shall ask Bilbo at tea," Frodo answered. He turned, with Sam at his arm, to the hobbit-hole. Merry and Pippin continued down the path.
"Merry! What if the storm happens on the night of the dance?"
"It won't, Pippin," Merry said before thinking. But maybe it would.
"Merry-"
"-Pippin." That seemed to settle that. Bilbo escorted Sam and Frodo into the warm entryway of their beloved Bag-End. It provided a comforting light and shelter from the now coming storm outside. Bilbo started a roaring fire and left the room to prepare cakes, and tea, and good rolls for a happy and pleasant tea. Frodo, meanwhile, took out an old mad and laid it out on the table for Sam and Frodo to look at.
"Look, Mr. Frodo...right there - see, Mirkwood. Elves live there. I'd dearly like to see them. You've met the elves, didn't you, Mr. Bilbo, sir?"
Bilbo smiled as he walked back into the living room with a tray full of good things for them to munch while they talked. Bilbo started. "That I did." He smiled at Sam. "And you, someday perhaps, Samwise Gamgee!"
"Oh, I do hope so, sir." Sam reached for a heel loaf and took a large bite. "Mmm! Mr. Bilbo, sir, hw ddd ung-" Frodo tried not to laugh.
"Sam! Wait until you are done chewing."
"You like it, Master Gamgee? I shall send you with a recipe!" Sam beamed his approval between bites. Frodo's mind quickly wandered back to the storm.
"Bilbo," Frodo began. Bilbo looked at him. "Bilbo, what of the storm? When should we expect it?" Bilbo scratched his chin. "I'd say fairly soon, my boy. What of it?"
Frodo looked at his tea, his face somewhat downcast. "Ah, your dance is coming up soon, is it not?" Bilbo said stirring the fire slightly. Frodo nodded. "Yes, it is. It would be terrible if the rain forced us to postpone it."
"Tis fall, my boy. Rain showers come and go as they please, much as Gandalf does." Said Bilbo.
"Speakin' of Mister Gandalf, sir," said Sam, "When is he comin' to visit? Soon I hope..."
"No doubt soon, Sam," said Frodo. "He is to come deliver the fireworks for the dance." "Speaking of this dance of yours..." Bilbo muttered something about young hobbits gallivanting about after hours, and then eyed Sam. "What was that young Took saying, 'Love sick', I believe, Master Samwise! Eh, and what's this? Finally prove your fancy for Miss Rosie?" Bilbo chuckled. Sam smiled shyly and looked down.
"Yes sir, I- fancy? What fancy?" Sam looked bewildered. Frodo laughed.
"Sam! It's been so obvious! You loved Rosie since you set eyes on her. And these past 20 years you've done nothing about it!"
"Well! I- well. It just so happens-- well!" Sam turned bright red. Bilbo and Frodo shook their heads and smiled.
A large banner hung between the two biggest trees at Hobbiton High, the very day before the school dance. "Fall Fling" it read, with the pony mascot on one side and "Hobbiton High" in smaller letters underneath. All the young hobbits looked forward with excitement to this dance, even those without dates. The sky, however, had a different story! Merry and Pippin were gazing up into the gray heavens scowling. Rosie and Sam sat under a tall willow just staring into each other's eyes. Frodo was overseeing the unloading of the fireworks every now and then glancing at Lily who was in charge of music. He was upset as she was going to the dance with Gregar he should have asked her earlier!!! Suddenly he spotted out of the corner of his eye Samantha, who was making a banner for the party. One of Gregar's clumsy, brute friends was walking over. He began to tease her mercilessly, playing with her hair and trying to ruin the banner.
"Stop it, Gregar!" She snapped.
Gandalf, having arrived to help out at the dance, glanced over as well, and then looked back at Frodo expectantly as he unloaded another box of fireworks. Merry and Pippin had also been watching Frodo, and even more so the supply of fireworks. Merry had a gleam in his eye as he glanced at Pippin. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" he asked.
The corners of Pippin's mouth began to creep upwards. "If you're thinkin' what I'm thinkin', then I'm sure I'm thinkin' what you're thinkin'." Merry stared at him a moment. "On second thought, nobody really can be sure what you're thinking, or if you're even thinking at all..." Pippin began to nod, and then stopped, puzzled. "But never mind that," Merry continued. "All we have to do, in order to have a little fun with all this, is to create a diversion and while their sorting it out we can borrow some fireworks."
"Borrow? How can we give them back if we've used them?"
"Well Pip, we're not using them for our own enjoyment, now are we? It's for all the poor hobbits who can't have fireworks until tomorrow."
"Really? Who?"
"Us you divvy!!"
"Oh that's alright then. What shall we do as a diversion?"
"Well, steal his hat! No, no. Ask him questions about his hat! I'll take the fireworks. Meet me behind Old Oakers afterwards!" Merry smiled at Pippin.
"But..."
"Good! Now go on," said Merry, whistling innocently as meandered toward the cart. Pippin looked about confusedly, wondering how he'd gotten himself such an obligation. Gandalf appeared over the rise, with another armload of fireworks.
"Well, it's now or never," Pippin muttered to himself as he started forward. "Gandalf!" he cried. "Ho! Gandalf!"
The gray-cloaked wizard stopped and turned to the young hobbit. "Why, if it isn't Peregrin Took!" he exclaimed. "What can I do for you, lad?"
"I, uh... well, what I meant to say is... err, I was just wonderin'..."
Gandalf looked at him quizzically. "Yes?"
"Your hat!" Pippin blurted. There was a moment of puzzled silence.
"My hat?" asked Gandalf.
"Yes, that's it, your hat," Pippin recovered himself. "You see, t'other day I got to thinkin'." Pippin stammered, searching for the appropriate words, but as usual, it came out clumsy and stupid. "It's tall...very tall and....very pointy."
Gandalf smiled and his blue eyes sparkled. "You are an observant one, Peregrin..." He said, going back to loading the fireworks. But Pippin, as usual, continued talking.
"Why? Why is it so, Gandalf?"
Gandalf laughed merrily. "Why? You hobbits could go on forever with such questions..."
"I still have not received an answer" Pippin interrupted. As he carried on this aimless conversation, Merry snuck to the side of the cart and carefully lifted a few fireworks out. He then jumped to the ground and looked about to be sure no one had seen him. No one had. Glancing up the hill, he could see Pippin tagging along bouncily by Gandalf's side, chattering away at a record clip.
"I want to know Gandalf!" he chirped. "Why is it so tall?"
"Well, I suppose it suits me," Gandalf replied. "Can you imagine a tall wizard like myself wearing a short little hat? Of course not!"
"Oh, you're certainly right! How silly of me," Pippin babbled on. "Now, that brings me to another thing. I noticed it's gray, and that got me wonderin'..." The voices faded away as the two figures made their way down the other side of the hill and toward the party grounds. Merry smiled to himself. "Perfect," he said. "All according to..." He didn't have a chance to finish. Before he even got another word out, a firm hand grasped his shirt from behind and spun him around. It Seemed Gregar found something to do keep himself occupied. "Well look what we've got here - Meriadumb Brandybuck..."
"What's this?" He asked, grabbing the fireworks from his hand as he shoved Merry to two of his rowdy friends who walked around behind him. They held his arms fast.
Gregar smiled slyly. "Well...this sure could be alota fun...." Merry sputtered and cast his eyes about, looking for a way to defend himself. As he did so, a movement behind the group of hobbit bullies caught his attention. It was Pippin! He must have left Gandalf and crept back to find Merry, only to find his friend in Gregar's clutches. Pippin put a finger to his mouth, signaling Merry not to give him away.
"So, Gregar how's your father?" Merry asked cheerfully.
The older hobbit was caught off guard. "What?" he asked perplexedly. This was the reaction he least expected.
Merry saw Pippin creeping slowly toward the firework cart, which was to the side and slightly behind Gregar and his friends. "I asked how your father was doing," Merry repeated. "I heard he'd come down with a right nasty cold last week. I hope he's doing better?" Gregar scratched his head. "I suppose so," he mumbled, unsure what to do next.
"Aww, c'mon Greg," Mortimer Clubfoot, one of Gregar's friends, chimed in. "Let's bruise the little pipsqueak up a bit and have our fun. That's what we came for." Pippin had reached the cart, still unnoticed by the older hobbits. Reaching up, he grasped one of the protruding fireworks, and slowly began easing it from the cart.
By now Gregar seemed to have recovered himself. "You're right Mort," he said. "Little Meriadork's just trying to distract us." He advanced menacingly, pounding the fist of his right hand against his left palm. "Mort, hold his arms," he continued. "The rest of you," he motioned to the other two, "Will take turns givin' 'im some nice black 'n blue spots."
Merry swallowed uneasily. "And you're mum," he squeaked. "How's she holding up? I know it was hard on her when her mother died a few months back."
"Shut yer trap," Mugwort Sackville-Baggins snapped.
Pippin was fumbling with something on the ground now. Then Merry saw a spark. Flint! He had a flint stone! Pippin dropped the flint back in his pocket and set the firework in the ground, aimed at a spot just above Gregar's head.
Merry tried desperately to stall for time. "And how's your mother, Mort old chap?" The older hobbits sniggered, but just then the fuse burned up to the base and.. SWOOSH, POOF! A spiral of blue and purple sparks spun overhead of Gregar and his friends right into the tree. Birds flew in every direction as the dry, autumn leaves caught flame. Merry took the opportunity to backhand both of Gregar's thugs and make a mad dash for it.
Gandalf, however, was neither amused nor impressed with Pippin's courageous rescue.
Pippin stood victoriously and hooted with laughter, only to be cut short by a firm, familiar grip of old, arthritis-gnarled fingers on his floppy hobbit ear. "Fool of a Took," He and Gandalf said simultaneously. Gandalf carried him back to the cart.
Meanwhile, Frodo sat talking to Samantha, who he had just saved from torturous bullying. Something bugged him, though. She kept winking at him, and putting her hand on his shoulder. Frodo shrugged it off, but when she almost too obviously "tripped" on him, he decided enough was enough.
"Excuse me... I don't mean to be rude, but I have to get back to work!"
"Well, o-" Frodo was already off, in search of Sam. 'Where is that blasted hobbit?' he thought, frustrated. He didn't see him until he fell right over him. "OOMPH!" Frodo and Sam both gasped, as Frodo fell over Sam and Rosie.
When the three hobbits had all righted themselves and dusted themselves off, Frodo realized what had happened. He flushed and stammered, "I-I'm terribly sorry! I didn't mean to...to. interrupt..."
Rosie giggled. Sam turned red. "Oh, n-no Master Frodo," he replied. "It's not like that. You didn't interrupt nothin'."
But Frodo saw the lipstick marks on Sam's face and knew otherwise. Then Rosie spoke up. "Look at the clouds!" she nervously commented. "Why, if they aren't the blackest-"
"Rosie?" a voice roared. The hobbits jerked their heads around to see Gregar hovering over them. "And Samwise Gamgee. So this- this is what you've been up to!"
"Have off, Gregar!" Rosie snapped, causing Sam, Frodo, and even Gregar to look at her in surprise. "You have no-" she was cut off short. The loudest clap of thunder those hobbits had ever heard resounded through the grassy arena, echoing around the solid trees. Frodo clapped his hands over his ears. Rosie squealed and clung to Sam. Similar shrieks and squeals were heard here and there, as hobbits previously preparing the area dashed for the nearest oak tree. Gregar roughly grabbed Rosie from the ground.
"Rosie, you're coming home, now!" As Rosie protested, Gandalf suddenly became immense in stature, nearly twice his natural height, and dark and terrible to look upon. "GREGAR COTTON!" he bellowed. "I *highly* suggest that you unhand your sister and go find other things to do with your time!"
Gregar's mouth dropped. His lower jaw trembled, and whimpering noises emerged from somewhere within. The large hobbit (who didn't feel so large anymore) quickly let go of Rosie's arm. "I- I-I..." he stuttered.
Gandalf slowly returned to his normal form. "That's better," he nodded. "Now run along."
Gregar slowly took a step backward, then another, and then turned tail and took off over the hill toward home has fast as his hobbit legs could carry him. But before the other hobbits could thank Gandalf for intervening, a flash of lighting streaked across the sky, followed closely by another clap of thunder, and then the heavens burst. "Quick!" shouted Sam, trying to shield Rosie from the downpour. "We must find shelter!"
"Follow me!" Frodo yelled against the torrent. "Bag-End is closest!"
They began running in the direction of the Baggins residence. But as they neared the top of the lane, Merry suddenly slipped on the muddy footing and fell violently on his face. Pippin, who had found them, pulled Merry out of the puddle. "Merry, come on!" Frodo grabbed a hold of Merry from the other side and hauled him up the way. They burst through the door, grabbing and pulling and hauling their way inside Bag End. Finally Rosie pushed the door closed. Bilbo looked startled as they all piled in at last. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "It isn't every day I get a whole passel of sopping hobbits in for supper. Oh dear, you must be chilled to the bone! Let me put on some tea for you. Frodo, sit our guests down by the fire. There's a good lad."
Bilbo bustled about; passing out warm woolen blankets, and filled a large kettle with water and hung it above the roaring fire. "Would anybody like some fresh biscuits?" he called from the kitchen. His muffled voice made it obvious he was already enjoying one himself. "Or how about a nice bowl of vegetable stew?"
"Nothing for me, thank you," Gandalf replied.
Bilbo tsked under his breath and muttered, "Those wizards, they just don't eat right. Why, a healthy hobbit can down 3 or 4 times what a grown man eats." Then, speaking louder, he called out, "How about the rest of you? Sam? Rosie, lass? What'll ye have? And Meriadoc? Pippin?" Merry piped up, "Well, if you don't mind, I'll have some sausages, and tomatoes..." He paused to think. "And some nice, crispy bacon!" he said at last. "Good! Good!" Bilbo beamed. "At least one of you eats right."
Sam spoke up. "Do you have any of that bread, sir? I fancy it more than the old Gaffer's, if I may say so. May I help you in the kitchen, Master Baggins?" Bilbo called a hearty agreement and Sam rushed to the kitchen excitedly. Rosie, Pippin, and Frodo voiced their dinner preferences and proceeded to hang up their wet outer clothes. Rosie, the only lady, shivered, still in her sopping dress. Bilbo appeared at the doorway. "Rosie, my lass! I may have something dry for you as well. Come with me!" Rosie obligingly stood up and followed the old hobbit down one of Bag-End's hallways.
"I do believe I've still got some old dresses of my mother's packed away here somewhere," Bilbo muttered, stopping and pulling open a closet door. He rummaged for a bit, and then shouted "AHA!" Triumphantly he held up a cozy-looking flannel evening gown. "I suppose it's a bit out of fashion," Bilbo said, looking at it and frowning a bit, "but I hope it'll do until we get your own things dried and this storm lets up."
"Oh, I'm sure it'll do just fine," Rosie smiled at him.
"Good, good," Bilbo smiled back. "Now, there's a spare room immediately to your left," he said, pointing. "You can change in there, and then join the rest of us when you're done."
Rosie took the dress and thanked him, adding a quick kiss on the cheek, and then hurried into the spare room to change.
"Well, I'll be," Bilbo chuckled. "A pretty young thing like that givin' me a kiss..." He shook his head and headed back to where the others were huddled around the flames.
As Bilbo returned, Frodo looked up and said: "Bilbo, what shall we do? The dance-- it can't happen, you've seen the rain! All the decorations, all of our hard work, not even Gandalf's fireworks!" Frodo's face was tense and upset. Gandalf cut in. "My boy, a storm cannot stop a hobbit's work. It will simply be delayed!" Frodo hadn't thought of that.
"Delayed, Gandalf? Will you stay?" "I'm afraid I can't," the wizard said regretfully. "I only had plans to be here through the night of the dance, and not a moment longer. I have pressing business in the south."
"But you *must* stay!" Sam cried in dismay. "How will we have fireworks if you aren't here? Everyone knows a party just isn't a party without fireworks!"
"Oh, you may still have your fireworks yet," Gandalf chuckled. But when they pressed him to explain what he meant, he merely smiled and refused to say another word. They all sat in silence for a while. Rosie emerged from the spare room, smiling and singing softly to herself. But she stopped short when she saw the other hobbits' somber faces.
"Why, what's the matter with all of you?" she asked. "Here we are, in a nice warm hobbit-hole, safe from the storm, and with plenty of good food and warm drink to see us through, and you're all moping like a bunch of naughty children who've just been told they'll have to skip afternoon tea and wait 'til dinner for their next meal. Whatever is the matter?"
"Oh, Rosie," Sam began, "Gandalf cannot stay! He said something about a delay, and pressing business, and fireworks..."
"Sam, Sam!" Bilbo chuckled. "You'll have your dance, and your fireworks too. It's a shame Mr. Gandalf will not attend, but a wizard must not be troubled by the affairs of hobbits."
"Why, Mr. Gandalf!" Rosie cried. "The dance won't be the same!"
"Don't worry, Rosie. "It may be better than you think." Gandalf said to her. Bilbo startled as if he had suddenly remembered something, and rushed into the kitchen again. The soup was boiling and the bacon was ready. But just as he went to pull the stew off the stove and dish it up, the water kettle started whistling, and at the same time a bit of grease sprang out of the bacon pan and landed on Bilbo's outstretched arm. The old hobbit yelped, and as he sprang back, he bumped into the table and knocked over the whole tray of biscuits he'd prepared. Waving his burnt arm in the air, he used the other to reach for the water kettle, but his flailing arm slammed right into the rack of pots and pans hanging from the wall, setting off a dreadful clamor. By now the kettle was emitting a piercingly shrill noise, and the stew was bubbling so vigorously that any second it would boil right over. The whole mess would most likely have turned into a real disaster if it weren't for Gandalf and Sam. Bursting into the kitchen, Sam hurriedly tended to the jittering pot of stew, while Gandalf took the water kettle off the stove and quickly dished the cooked bacon out onto a waiting plate. Bilbo held his arm and sat amongst the pots and pans. Merry and Pippin joined them in the kitchen, first gathering the scattered biscuits and reassembling them on the tray, and then proceeding to rescue the pots and pans. Rosie took Bilbo out of the clutter and sat him in his living room. As she went to find an aloe plant, she appointed Frodo to keep him company. In the kitchen, Merry's stomach got the better of him, and he began stuffing a biscuit into his mouth with one hand, and reached for a tomato from the bowl on the counter with the other. But before it got there, Gandalf smacked it away. "Ow!" Merry cried out. "What was that for?"
"You ought to wait until everyone's been served, and especially old Bilbo," he reprimanded the young hobbit. "Now," he continued, ladling some stew into a bowl, and setting it on a tray, along with a biscuit, two strips of bacon, and a mug of hot tea. "You take this in to him and then help Rosie tend to his arm." Abashed, Merry nodded and carried the tray out to Bilbo. But he lucked out of his second chore, for Rosie was already there, bandaging the burned spot.
"Bless you, dear lass," Bilbo said to her. "Sometimes I don't know how I manage to get on all by myself out here."
"There, there," Rosie smiled. "We all have our mishaps from time to time." Merry set the tray down on the end table beside Bilbo's chair. "Here you go, sir," he said politely. "Why, thank you Meriadoc. Now, you go on and help yourself to some of this."
Merry smiled and happily scampered back to the kitchen. But Gandalf wasn't done with him yet. "Back already, eh?" he said. Merry grinned and nodded. "Well, good! I have a job for you." You see all these pots and pans scattered 'round?"
Merry stammered stupidly "I...I uh-"
"Pick them up and put them back into order...then perhaps you can sit and have your luncheon."
"But Gandalf!" Merry snapped, pointing to Pippin who had already taken the liberty of sitting at the table and eating..."You could pick this all up with a snap o' your finger! Why do I?"
Gandalf eyed Merry warningly. No words were needed. Merry grumbled to himself as he started to clean up.
Meanwhile, the old wizard turned to Pippin and smiled. "He'll get over it," he whispered. The rest of them took their food and went to join the others by the fire, joined shortly afterward by a disgruntled Merry.
"Well," Bilbo announced, "it doesn't look as if this storm shows any signs of letting up soon, so I suppose you'll all have to stay the night. I'm afraid I only have one spare room with a cot in it, and Rosie shall take that, so the rest of you will have to bundle up with your blankets on the floor in here. I hope you'll all get by?"
"Oh, yes, that's perfectly all right," Sam replied, smiling graciously. "And bless you for taking us in like this. As soon as the weather clears and I can get back to the gaffer's place, I'll bake you a right nice carrot cake as thanks."
They all enjoyed their food, scraping the stew bowls as clean as they could. When they were finished, the excitement of the day and the warmth of their supper overcame them, and one by one they drifted off to sleep.
********************
The next day, Sam woke up as a ray of sunshine spilled through the window and spread over his face. He sat up, stretched, and then remembered where he was and what had happened the day before. "Frodo!" he cried, shaking the nearest hobbit, who was still fast asleep. "Wake up! Look! The storm's passed!"
"Mmrrrph" Frodo muttered, his face buried under the blanket. "Merry! Pippin! Bilbo! Look!" Sam was filled with joy. Maybe the dance wouldn't be delayed after all, if the ground dried quickly enough. A bleary-eyed Merry sat up and threw a pillow at Sam. "Let a tired hobbit get his rest, why don't you?" But Bilbo was already up and about, and poked his head in from the kitchen. Smiling, he spoke: "Breakfast will be ready soon, sleepyheads. In the meantime, why don't you wash up and see if Miss Rosie needs anything..." He said as he went about frying eggs and sausages, toasting nice slices of homemade bread and butter, and warming some hot cider for the young hobbits. Gandalf was nowhere to be found and his cart was gone, but Bilbo had a strange feeling they'd see him again before long. Pippin awoke with a start at Bilbo's words.
"Breakfast? Sam, he said 'breakfast'!" Pippin scrambled to his feet and hauled Sam out of his blankets. Bilbo chuckled from the next room.
"I think I'll be needin' a bath first, Pippin. That goes for the rest of you, too!" Sam replied. Merry grunted from the pile of hobbits on the floor. Frodo decided that as he wasn't doing anything he'd wake Rosie up but before he could knock on her door she stepped out of the room all freshly washed and dressed in the clothes she had been wearing when the storm struck.
"Still in your rumpled night clothes Frodo? I've been up for ages but I didn't want to disturb you so I got all washed up. Where's Sam?"
"Getting washed up. He'll be out in a minute."
"Good, we have some unfinished business that needs attending to as soon as possible. Shouldn't you go finish the decorations?"
"Yes your right, I'll attend to that straight away, after we all bathe and eat."
"Why of course, Frodo! I wouldn't have the bunch of you out there looking like mud-rats, now!" Rosie grinned at him. Frodo laughed. "I'll be preparing the baths, if you need anything, Rosie," Frodo said, and turned away down the hall to the three hobbit-sized washtubs in the washroom. Bilbo was busy boiling water for each of the baths. He brought in a pot full every now and then and added some cool water along with it. Pretty soon, Pippin and Merry rushed in to make sure they got in first so as to be the first at the breakfast table. Bilbo hesitated to hand Pippin the bar of soap. "Now remember, Master Took, I don't want any soap suds on my floors now! Last time you bathed in here you left a mess and poor old Gandalf nearly broke that rickety old back of his..."
Pippin smiled mischievously and grabbed the cake of soap. "I'll be careful, Bilbo. Honest."
"All right then," Bilbo smiled, and made for the door. "Don't forget to wash behind your ears," he called over his shoulder. With that, Sam began to unbutton his shirt. He looked down at his bare hobbit chest. His eyes opened wide and he looked up in excitement.
"Merry!!! Pippin!! I grew a chest hair! I have a chest hair!!!"
"Not for long, you don't!" Merry grinned, plucking the single curly hair from the middle of Sam's chest. Sam looked at him, horrified. "Y-you... you..." he stuttered. "I'll get you for that." Merry smirked and slapped the surface of the water with his hand, sending up a spray of soapsuds and drenching poor Sam. "Merry!" Pippin cried, mortified, "I promised Bilbo..." But Merry didn't seem to hear. Laughing, he quickly wriggled out of his own clothes and jumped into one of the tubs, splashing. He sloshed more water out at Sam, who was attempting to completely undress before he bathed. As it were, he was getting a bath standing up! "Merry! Stop! I told Mr. Baggins-"
"Here, Pip!" Merry tossed him the soap. Sam took the opportunity to get out of the line of fire and into the bath, much relieved and, for the moment, safe from Merry's torments. Bilbo walked in. He groaned. "Peregrin Took! I asked you to please be careful of the floor!"
"I-I... I tried, Mr. Bilbo!" he whimpered. "But you see, Merry..."
"Never mind," Bilbo cut in. "Just finish your baths and see that you get this all cleaned up. Now..." He looked around, "where did I leave that confounded linen?? You boys will need to dry..." Bilbo shook his head, muttering to himself, and walked briskly out of the room.
"Merry, why do I always have to get in trouble?" Pippin whined at him. He too pulled off his muddy garments and settled into a tub.
"Because, Pip, if I got in trouble, I'd blame it on you anyway." Pippin frowned at him and began to wash, singing a chipper song of bathing and drinking and sweet hobbit lasses. Merry snickered, "you think you're gonna get lasses, Pip? Not unless your nether parts start catching up with that tummy you're growing..."
Pippin flushed. "Oh... oh... you... I should have let old Gregar kick *yours* in a little! Then we'd see how *you* feel..."
"Children! Children!" Frodo exclaimed. "Hush now. Let's finish our baths in peace!" Muttering, Pippin went back to scrubbing himself. Sam was lost in a daydream. He had nearly forgotten that he was bathing, and he settled back, relaxed. He closed his eyes and smiled. Merry looked over at Sam and poked Pippin. "Pippin!" he whispered. "I think Sam's dreaming about... Roooosie..." he grinned lopsidedly.
"Sam has a lass! Whyee can't I?"
"Give it up, Pippin!" Merry turned his attention back toward Sam. He held the soap up above Sam's tub and dropped it, splashing both Sam and himself with bath water. Sam awoke from his daydream with a start, spluttering. Merry and Pippin roared with laughter.
"Eee, Sam, dreamin' about yer Rosie, eh?" Pippin teased. Just then, Frodo shrieked. The other three jumped a good three feet in their tubs (splashing more water in the process), and whirled to see what was wrong. "Pippin! Sam!" he cried. "Oh, Merry! Help! I got it in my eye! It burns!" Frodo held his squinting eye with a soapy hand, not making it much better. "Here," Sam said, handing Frodo a bucket of clean rinse water. "Wash it out with this."
Frodo seized the bucket, turned his face upwards, and dumped out the water. "Ahhhhh," he sighed. "Thank you, Sam. That feels mush better."
In about twenty minutes, all washed and dried and clothed, the four hobbit friends returned to the kitchen. There they found Bilbo dishing out breakfast onto plates. Rosie was setting the table. Sam's heart fluttered when he saw her, and she smiled at him. "Morning, Sammie..." she greeted him, seemingly unaware of the other three hobbits.
"Good day, Rosie..." Sam replied, not taking his eyes off her. Merry and Pippin, who were behind Sam, looked at each other and immediately started belting out a hobbit love song. "Samwise and Roooosie, sitting in a tree," Merry began. "K-I-S-S- I-N-G," Pippin joined in.
"First comes loooooooove,
then comes marriage,
then comes a hobbit in a baby carriage!"
Bilbo flashed them a warning look. "Now, now," he said. "Your food will get right cold if you don't eat up now."
Everyone took their share and dug in. "Mmm," said Frodo. "You sure do know how to cook, Bilbo."
Bilbo smiled, "I don't know about that. I'm sure our young Samwise here could teach me a thing or two."
Sam blushed. "Oh, I can make a decent loaf of bread, but 'tain't nothin' special," he said modestly.
"Oh, Sam," Rosie said, "You kiss- cook like a wonder!" She turned red, hoping no one had heard her slip. Frodo, Merry, and Pippin almost died stifling their laughter as Bilbo gave them another look. Sam blushed more. The blushes and their causes were soon forgotten, as there was a knock at the door. Bilbo began to get up. "Now I wonder who that might be?" "Oh, never you mind," said Rosie, pushing him back into his chair. "I'll go see to the door. You just finish your breakfast." Rosie bustled to the front of the hobbit-hole, smoothed her dress, and opened the door. "Rosie!" thundered a voice from outside. "What the devil do you think you're doing? I've been through nearly half the Shire looking for you!"
"Oh, Gregar," she replied. "We just got caught in the rainstorm last night, and Bilbo's place was closest, so..."
"I don't care!" Gregar bellowed. "You should have come straight home!"
"Now just a minute!" Sam had appeared behind Rosie. "You've got no right to be talkin' to Miss Rosie like that!"
"Oh haven't I?" Gregar smirked. "She's my sister, or have you forgotten? Now..." He grabbed Rosie's wrist. "You're coming home straight away!" Sam had had enough. He stepped out of the door and knocked Gregar's hand away and stood in front of Rosie. "Rosie is 24 years, if I remember, and I think I do! She is old enough to be makin' her own decisions!" Rosie began to quiver behind Sam as Gregar raised his fist. The older hobbit sent Sam reeling with a hook across the jaw. "Gregar, stop!" Rosie shouted. Sam staggered and recovered his footing. Balling his own fists, he advanced on Gregar. The two hobbits began circling. "Sam! Gregar! No!" Rosie pleaded, but the two didn't seem to hear. Gregar swung again, but this time Sam was ready and ducked out of the way easily. Then Sam landed a punch to his gut. Gregar doubled over, gasping. Sam lowered his fists, thinking he'd gotten the better of the old bully, but Rosie's brother wasn't finished yet. Recovering quickly, he caught the younger hobbit by surprise with another blow to the face. Sam nearly lost his footing. Before he could steady himself, Gregar kicked at his legs, sending Sam to his knees. It looked as if he would win the fight, but just then Rosie screamed at the top of her lungs. Gregar and Sam both looked at her in alarm. Bilbo, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were already there. Frodo helped Sam to his feet, and Rosie just kept screaming, advancing on her brother until he was out the door. She slammed it, stopped screaming, and turned back to the others. Sam rubbed his jaw. "My god... she's turned into a banshee..." Rosie smiled sweetly, "What's a girl to do?"
Gregar pounded on the door, "Open up!" More pounding. "The devil take you, Rosie! Open the door!" Rosie shouted back: "Go home, brother! I have neither the time nor the expense to put up with you! I don't want to see your face here again, hear me? Never!" Worried about Sam, she turned to him. "Oh, Rosie, I'm sorry... I didn't want... well, I, I di-" Sam was cut off as Rosie pulled him into a long, sweet kiss. Bilbo sighed. "Oh, young love..." The pounding continued. Nobody cared. Frodo was thankful Gregar hadn't the sense to run to the window and look inside. After what seemed a great while, the two parted. Pip felt somewhat "ashamed" for teasing Sam earlier. He walked over to Sam and put a hand on his face. "My, Sam....that's some shiner on your face there. It just might clash with your outfit you picked out for the dance tonight..." Merry giggled "Ah yes, but the ladies enjoy a good ol' battle scar, Pip..." Several minutes elapsed, and the two still had not parted. Merry coughed. Still nothing. "Ahem!" Frodo grunted, scratching the back of his head. "Mmm?" Rosie muttered, slowly pulling away. "You said something, Frodo?"
Sam looked dazed. He went back to rubbing his sore jaw. "Oh, nothing, Rosie," Frodo shook his head. "I just noticed the pounding on the door has stopped. Perhaps Gregar's given it up for now." Bilbo spoke up. "Well, maybe the pounding has stopped, but I don't think this is the last you've seen from Gregar, Sam. You better be careful if you don't want to add a black eye to that shiner. But for now, I think it's best if we tidy up!" Bilbo smiled at them and bustled back into the kitchen. Merry, Pippin, and Frodo followed. "Bilbo, do you think the dance will still happen? Everything is wet!" "With the way that sun is shining," Bilbo nodded at the light coming in the window, "Things are sure to dry up by this afternoon. That will leave us just enough hours to put up the decorations before it's time for everyone to start showing up. Don't you worry, Frodo, dear lad. The dance will go on as planned!" Frodo sighed with relief.